Nothing to Lose
by Angeldust1
Summary: A normal day can change into one of horror and violence in one terrifying instant.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Nothing to Lose  
  
Rating: R, I guess, since there's some strong language.  
  
Summary: A seemingly normal night in the ER becomes one of violence and horror in one instant.  
  
Author's Note: I just wanted to let ya know that this is only the first chapter, and others will come soon!  
  
Spoilers: After 'A Simple Twist of Fate', before 'Secrets, Lies…' in season 8.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone. No matter how many times I wish for Carter to just appear on my doorstep, it doesn't happen. I do own the psycho and his buddies (just read, you'll see).  
  
  
Cook County General Hospital ER: 10:16 PM  
Abby Lockhart watched the clock impatiently, waiting for the minute when she would be able to clock out and head home. She'd been on all day and was ready to get away from the sprains, flues, and traumas that the ER was known for. It wasn't that she didn't like her job; it was just that on days like this it was hard to stay upbeat.   
  
Watching people die did that to you.  
  
It had been a depressing day. Five had come in through ambulance, and Dr's Carter, Greene and Weaver had all lost one each, leaving just two survivors from a shooting. They had been innocents, too. Just caught in the line of fire, caught in bullets not meant for them. That didn't matter, though. Bullets weren't picky when it came to choosing their victims.   
  
"Hey, Abby," a familiar voice said behind her, and she turned. Carter was standing there wearily, his eyes the picture of exhaustion, "could you help me out with a leg lac in exam 2?"  
  
She nodded and gave him a smile, "Sure Carter, but it, uh, won't take long, will it? I'm off in fifteen." She made sure that he heard the 'fifteen' part of her sentence.  
  
"It'll only be a minute." he answered, running a hand through his hair, making it stand on end a little. He had been here just as long as her, and she could see that he was rough around the edges from the events of the day.  
  
She gestured for him to lead the way, and he did so, smiling at her graciously. She only rolled her eyes at him. He always made her feel a little better with that grin of his.   
  
Still, she knew that smile wouldn't help her get out of here on time.  
  
  
  
Mark Greene felt like punching someone. Namely, the old woman sitting on the bed in front of him. She had been brought in with a sprained ankle just ten minutes ago, and as of yet, she had refused to let anybody touch her.   
  
"Mrs. McNeal," he admonished, holding his voice in check, "I need to examine your ankle to make sure-,"  
  
"Don't raise your voice to me, young whipper-snapper," she snapped, staring at him defiantly, "I don't need any of your help. I didn't even want to be brought in here. When I was younger, we would get broken bones, and we'd like it."  
  
Mark sighed, "Well, as much as you don't want me to fix your ankle, I really need to-,"  
  
"No!" she cut him off, "I want to go home!"  
  
"And I want you to go home too, but right now, that ankle really needs to be looked at!" Mark yelled back.  
  
She crossed her arms stubbornly, letting him know that she didn't want anybody poking around her ankle, "Call me a taxi."  
  
Mark would've pulled his hair out, if he had enough to be pulled, "Fine. Whatever," he glance outside to see Chuny passing, "hey, Chuny!" he yelled.  
  
"Yeah?" she paused.  
  
"Could you call Mrs. McNeal a taxi, please? She wants to go home, and frankly, I'm ready to send her home."  
  
Chuny smiled. He could tell she was amused by this, "Sure, Mark."  
  
"I can't believe the things I have to go through to get out of this place," she muttered as she hopped down from the table, favoring her right ankle.  
  
Mark rubbed his temples tiredly, "Then don't get in the ambulance next time and save us the trouble."   
  
With that said, he stalked out of the room, leaving Mrs. McNeal to fend for her own. It was times like these that made him want to quit. Just three hours ago, he had done everything he could to save a woman from a shooting, but she had died. And here, he had someone refusing to be attended to. It was a crazy world.  
  
He erased his name from the board slowly, even though the injury hadn't exactly been fixed.  
  
"Finished with that sprain already, Mark?" Kerry asked behind him.  
  
He dropped the eraser and headed toward the lounge, hoping she wasn't following him, "Not exactly."  
  
"Then you're not finished?" she called to his back curiously.  
  
"I didn't say that," he answered, before entering the lounge and leaving Kerry hanging in mid-sentence.  
  
He grabbed a cup off the counter and started to pour himself a cup of coffee-slop. It was when it didn't come out that he realized it was empty. Frustrated, Mark groaned, "Why me? I just need some caffeine…,"  
  
This night officially sucked.  
  
  
  
Carter gave Abby a grateful smile as he finished suturing the leg lac he'd been roped into. The patient, a huge, towering football player who looked to be about twenty-five, was rambling on about the game he had received the injury in.  
  
"And then, I got the ball and I'm running like there's no freakin' tomorrow, when this guy pushes me straight into the yellow flag."  
  
Carter clipped the length of the thread expertly, "And that's what gave you this."  
  
"Oh, this?" the guy, Jimmy Lambert, shook his head, "Hell no. I really don't know how that happened. I just know I went the whole game with it, not even noticing it. It was afterwards when I saw the blood and stuff. Thought it couldn't hurt to come in."  
  
Carter nodded, "You were right. That's a deep cut."  
  
"So, did you guys win?" Abby asked beside him conversationally.  
  
Jimmy pumped his fists into the air excitedly, "Hell yeah! We kicked ass!"  
  
Carter held back the urge to laugh at this character. It looked to him like football was what Jimmy lived, breathed, and ate, "What was the score?"  
  
"Twenty-seven to fourteen."   
  
Carter finished the suture up and peeled his gloves off, "Well, looks like you're done, Jimmy."  
  
"Hey, thanks, doc," He answered as he stood up, "I can play football tomorrow, right?"  
  
Carter frowned, "Uh, I don't encourage it. A wrong move could open that up again."  
  
Jimmy's eyes bugged out in his head, and Carter almost did a double take when he thought he saw tears, "Aww, man. There ain't no way."  
  
"Well, if you must," Carter lamented, knowing that he'd get nowhere by telling him not to, "just take it easy, alright?"  
  
Jimmy nodded, "Thanks, man." He shook Carter's hand excitedly before heading towards the desk.  
  
Carter watched him a few moments before turning to Abby, "Have you ever played football?"  
  
"Uh, a few times. Touch and flag." she answered as they made their way toward the lounge.  
  
Carter laughed, "Oh, the wimp's version." He pushed open the door and let Abby in before him.  
  
"Hey," she warned, "it's late, I'm beat, and don't mess with me."  
  
Carter put his hands up in a gesture of peace, "Okay, okay."   
  
He watched her as she opened her locker and grabbed her jacket, "So you're going home?"  
  
"I don't know," she said as she took off her nurses' jacket, "I'll probably stop by Luka's."  
  
Carter's heart twisted a little at the mention of the Croatian, "Oh." He made sure that his voice didn't give away the fact that those two together bothered him.  
  
She shut her locker and opened the door, "See you," she gave him a smile, and he waved at her before she disappeared.  
  
  
  
Mark watched Abby leave, wishing that was him, more than anything, but no, he was on for another few hours.   
  
The waiting room stood completely empty right now, and there were only a couple minors in the exam rooms. It seemed like the night had reached its lull, but he knew it wouldn't last for long. It was like the eye of the storm, calm and quiet, until all Hell broke loose.   
  
"Hey, Mark," Carter said from behind him, "wanna grab a cup of coffee over at Doc Magoo's while it's still slow?"   
  
Mark was able to manage a small smile. Coffee would be good, "Yeah, sure. Just let me finish this chart up."  
  
"Great," he heard Carter say.   
"Hey Abby,"  
  
Abby groaned to herself. She was so close…she just needed to take a few more steps.  
  
She turned around to meet Kerry, who was shivering in her flimsy lab coat, "Yeah?"  
  
"Before you leave, I need to ask you about the patient in exam 1."  
  
Abby tapped her foot impatiently. She really had somewhere to be…, "Yeah?"  
  
"Were you able to get the insurance provider for Mr. Hensley?" she asked, glancing at a chart she was holding, "because the chart doesn't say anything about it, and I thought-,"  
  
"Uh, I thought I did," Abby interrupted her, "I guess I might've missed it."  
  
Kerry nodded once, and Abby hoped she wouldn't make her go back in there and get the insurance, "Well, is there any way you could-,"  
  
"Can't you get Chuny to do it?" Abby asked, trying to keep her voice patient.   
  
Kerry looked like she was about to protest, but Abby tried to give her the best begging look she could muster, "Alright. I'll just get Chuny."   
  
Abby sighed, relieved, "Thank you so much, Kerry."  
  
The woman smiled and nodded, "See you tomorrow."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Abby turned and made her way towards the El station, thanking whoever was in charge up above for the break. She even managed to smile at a guy that was walking towards her. He had a nervous look to him, and she figured he was going in to score some drugs.  
  
He didn't smile back. Instead, he lunged toward her, grabbing her arm, and she felt something hard pointing into her back, "Don't say a word, and you won't get hurt."  
  
"What?" she whispered, barely registering what was happening. Was this for real? Was she actually getting mugged?  
  
Her heart pumped so quickly and so loud, that it seemed like the guy would be able to hear it. That he would be able to hear her fear. It had only been a few months since Brian had attacked her for convincing his wife to seek help. The black eye still hadn't gone away completely.  
  
And here she was again. Why me? She thought miserably as the guy began to drag her towards…the ER?  
  
"Why are you taking me back there?" she asked, and she instantly regretted the question.  
  
The man jabbed the gun into her back harshly, and Abby bit back a whimper, "Don't say anything. Nothing, you hear me?"  
  
She nodded, barely controlling the fear that had welled up within her and threatened to swallow her completely. She couldn't be scared. She had to stay calm. Just keep a level head…  
  
The guy shoved her in front of him, still keeping the gun at her back. She barely stopped herself from slamming into the automatic doors, but instead managed to stumble back into the brightly-lit ER waiting room.  
  
She saw Carter look up from the desk, "Abby? What are you doing back?" she watched as his eyes turned from surprised to suspicious when his sight went to the man behind her.  
  
Abby didn't say anything, but she didn't have to, "Alright," the guy said, his voice loud and demanding, "nobody move a muscle, and this little lady here won't get blown away."  
  
She heard a collective gasp rise up from the several doctors and nurses at the front desk, and she closed her eyes, hoping this would all go away when she opened them. Maybe it was just a nightmare…Abby opened her eyes slowly, and was brought back to reality when she saw the same familiar faces watching her and the man behind her. Different degrees of horror were evident on everyone's face, and Abby was sure they matched her own.  
  
This was real, and for the second time in the last few months, Abby was afraid she was going to die.  
  
  
  
Joshua hated all of them. Every single one of the high and mighty doctors. He hated how they had made something of their lives, and he hadn't. He hated everything about them.   
  
But right now, they weren't so great. Right now, he was in charge.   
  
He could feel the cute woman in front of him trembling, scared out of her wits. She had reason to be. He wasn't afraid of taking a life. He really wasn't afraid of anything. He had nothing to lose.  
  
The waiting room was completely still. Everyone watched him. It felt great.  
  
A movement out of the corner of Joshua's eye caught his attention, and he swung the gun away from the brunette to a younger woman behind the desk. Her eyes widened, and she let out a little scream.  
  
"You can try the phones, honey. They won't help you."  
  
Slowly, she did as she was told and picked up the phone. He watched as her eyes teared up, but she kept them down. Strong girl.  
  
"The-the phone line's out." She barely whispered, but Joshua heard it. So did everyone else.  
  
He pushed the woman he had brought in away from him, towards the desk, and he watched as a tall doctor who looked to be in his early thirties took a few hurried steps toward her. The guy's brown eyes widened when Joshua pointed his gun at him, "Don't move." He ordered, and the guy froze.  
  
Another doctor, one with glasses and a receding hairline, raised his arms up in peace. So this was the one who would try to talk him out of it, "Look man. Whatever this is, it's not gonna be solved this way."  
  
"Yeah, says you," Joshua laughed. This guy was a riot, "what's your name?"  
  
The doctor blinked, surprised, "Uh, Mark. Mark Greene."  
  
"Well, Mark Greene," Joshua said as he took a few measured steps toward him, "I disagree with your diagnosis." Then, he couldn't help but laugh out loud. He was a funny guy.  
  
No one else laughed, though.   
  
  
  
Kerry thought the ER was strangely quiet all of a sudden. Curious, she turned away from the patient she had asked Abby about and headed toward the desk.  
  
"What's going on?" she asked. Everyone behind the desk turned to look at her. Carter was pale and running his hand through his hair constantly, and Mark was strangely tense.  
  
She saw the reason why as soon as the words were out of her mouth. There, right in front of her, a tall, lanky guy swung his sawed-off shotgun around to face her, and her heart began to pump a little faster.  
  
"Who the Hell are you?" he asked, his voice reaching fever pitch.  
  
Kerry tried to look calm, even though she was panicking inside, "I'm Dr. Kerry Weaver." She answered slowly, hoping that the man standing there didn't go off.  
  
All they had to do was make sure that no one got hurt until the police came. There were elevators everywhere. Access was easy to the other floors. The problem would be over, just as soon as somebody knew about it.  
  
Then, the man began to laugh. Slowly at first, then louder, and louder, until he was practically rolling. Kerry bit back the urge to ask just what was so damn funny, since he was the one who had the weapon.  
  
"I can see you thinking right now, little Kerry," the guy said cruelly, "but I'm not as stupid as you think," he turned to look out the doors of the ER, "see, I have friends."  
  
Kerry felt like she had just been punched in the stomach. It was obvious that this guy meant business. And that he wasn't afraid of much.  
  
The doors to the ER slid open to reveal four huge men with dark clothes on. Each carried his own gun, and each had the same malicious glint in his eye.   
  
"Danny, take the elevators. Make sure no one comes down. Permanently." The guy said, and the man in front, Danny, lumbered towards the elevators.  
  
They had planned this. It was obvious.  
  
"You," the guy pointed at Randi, who straightened, "close these doors off. No one comes in or out."  
  
Randi swallowed, and Kerry desperately hoped that she wasn't dumb enough to refuse, "Alright."   
  
She grabbed the keys and headed toward the front doors slowly, where the small lock in the wall was that overrode the automatic doors. She hesitated when she neared the man, but he only waved her forward, until she was there and had turned the key in the lock.  
  
"It's- it's done." She whispered, and the guy smiled.  
  
"Good girl," he licked his lips hungrily, and Kerry felt like she was about to throw up, "what's your name?"   
  
He touched her arm, and she recoiled, "Randi."   
  
"Randi," he nodded, "that's a pretty name," he gestured towards the desk, "go on."  
  
She did so, almost running, and Kerry didn't relax until she was back behind the desk.   
  
In all her years as a doctor, she had never been so scared in her life.  
  
  
  
Cook County General Hospital ER: 10:41 PM  
Carter felt like he was going to explode, he was strung so tightly. Since the man with the gun had first arrived with Abby in front of him, he had spread his friends out to cover all exits, the phone lines had been cut, and the doctors and nurses that were on had been herded behind the desk. They were packed in tightly, and he felt like he wasn't going to be able to last much longer like this.  
  
He was pushed against the front of the desk, where he faced the leader. Beside him was Abby, who was shaking uncontrollably.   
  
"It'll be okay." he said to her, and she only nodded.   
  
The group was made up of himself, Abby, Kerry, Mark, Chuny, Deb, Randi, Lydia, Haleh, and Micheal Gallant. They were lucky that the staff had been a bit smaller tonight.   
  
The leader was talking quietly with one of his henchmen in chairs, and Carter strained his ears to hear them. As of yet, they hadn't been informed of what the gunmen wanted, but Carter could guess it was something big. Taking over a whole ER was a huge stunt to pull.  
  
The leader was pacing now, and Carter wondered what was going on. Maybe they had been found out. Maybe this would be over with before they knew it.   
  
Carter's concentration was torn from the two men when he heard the sounds of sirens pulling up to the ambulance bay.   
  
The leader jerked, then pointed his gun straight at Carter himself, "What the Hell is that?" he asked, breathing heavily.  
  
"That's an ambulance. They're bringing a victim in." Carter answered, barely able to keep the trembling from his voice.  
  
The leader made a small sound and pulled at his hair, "Send them somewhere else."  
  
"We can't," Gallant said from behind Carter, "they're here already. We have to take it."  
  
The leader pointed his gun away from Carter to Gallant, "I don't care!"  
  
Carter couldn't believe this. They were going to have to let someone die, if nobody did anything, "Look," he said, and the leader whirled to watch him through insane eyes, "this is the ER. We have to do something."  
  
"No! No," he said, taking a step toward Carter, "there's another hospital somewhere-,"  
  
He was cut off by the sounds of the back doors flying open. They hadn't been locked. A gurney was pushed in with a bloody woman lying on it, "We got a thirty-seven year old female, stab wound to the stomach. BP is 80 over 30. Lost consciousness on the way over-," Doris stopped when the leader spun and leveled the gun at her, "what the Hell?"  
  
"Send her back!" the guy yelled, "send her back!"  
  
Before Carter knew what he was doing, he was going towards the gurney, "We can't. She's going to die without help, and the next hospital is too far away."   
  
Even though he was screaming at himself to not do this, Carter knew he couldn't ignore a patient, "Okay, let's get her into trauma-,"  
  
And before he knew it, he felt the bullet enter his left arm. It sent a fiery wave of pain all the way from where it entered to his chest, and Carter couldn't help but cry out. Beside him, Doris screamed.  
  
"What did I tell you? I told you to send her back!" the guy said again.  
  
Carter saw the man beside him lower his pistol, a grin spreading across his scarred face. The pain was unbearable.  
  
"Oh God!" Haleh screamed, horrified.   
  
Carter clamped a hand on his arm, trying to stop the blood. He had no idea what it had hit. All he knew was that it hurt like Hell.  
  
"Carter!" Abby yelled, and all he could do was fall to his knees. It was like his legs had suddenly become too weak to support him. He saw her rush towards him, along with Mark and Gallant, but the leader stepped between them and pointed his gun at them and everyone behind the desk.  
  
"Nobody move!" he screamed, his eyes bulging from his head, "nobody make another fucking move!"  
  
Carter tried to breath evenly, but he could tell he was losing blood fast, "I'm fine," he gritted, hoping that no one would risk their lives for him, "just-just stay over there."  
  
He could see Abby, crying. She was staring at him, and he could see her desperation, but he knew if she tried anything, she would be shot. He willed her to stay behind the desk.  
  
He felt a presence above him, and Carter looked up to see the leader staring down at him, a sneer on his face, "Should've listened, doc."   
  
Then, as if things were going in slow motion, the guy raised his shotgun and pointed it at the unconscious woman lying on the gurney. He gave Carter another cold smile before pulling the trigger.  
  
The body jerked, and Carter closed his eyes against the horrific scene. He was a monster. This guy wasn't even human. He heard Doris scream again, along with everyone else behind the desk.  
  
Slowly, Carter opened his eyes to see the blood…the brain matter everywhere. The patient was dead.   
  
"Hey, you," the leader pointed his gun at Doris, "you can go. Tell your little friends that nothing comes to these doors, you got that? Or you'll get what he got," the guy pointed at Carter, "only worse."  
  
Doris looked at him, her eyes wide and unseeing. Carter nodded. They needed to keep as many people safe as possible. She stood up and left, with one last, terrified glance over her shoulder.  
  
"Now it'll get around, and before you know it, we'll have what we want." The leader said cheerily, and Carter felt like strangling him, if he wasn't injured.  
  
The guy gave Carter a little nudge with his foot, "You dead yet?"  
  
Carter moved his legs away from the guy's boot, "What do you think?" he asked, his voice barely masking the pain that he felt.  
  
"Smart-ass." the guys said, "get up. I want you back over there, with the others."  
  
Carter nodded and struggled to stand up. It seemed like every single move he made caused another wave of pain to emanate from his wounded arm. Gritting his teeth, he managed to stumble to his feet and make his way to the desk on shaky legs. He was seeing stars, he was in so much pain. Mark helped him behind the desk, and Carter was able to give him a grateful smile before crumpling onto the floor.   
  
He knew that he wouldn't last long without help.  
  
  
  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED... 


	2. Dangerous Atmosphere

Title: Dangerous Atmosphere  
  
Rating: R, for bad language.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the psycho.  
  
Author's Note: This is Ch. 2 of 'Nothing to Lose', and there's more to come after this. Soon, I promise!   
  
Spoilers: Again, takes place after 'A Simple Twist of Fate' and before "Secrets and Lies', so everything is along the lines of what's been going on during season 8.  
  
  
  
  
  
Cook County General Hospital ER: 10:58 PM  
Elizabeth Corday frowned at the sound of the recording that reached her ears. She knew she had dialed the ER correctly, but now, she was being told that the line was out of service.  
  
"Something wrong, Elizabeth?" Robert Romano asked as he drew up beside her in all his egotistical glory.  
  
She turned her frown from the phone to him, "There's something wrong with the connection."  
  
"Trying to reach Mark?" he asked nosily, giving her a false smile, one of the many things she hated about him.  
  
She nodded, "Yes. I need to talk to him about our daughter." She made sure to sound firm. He probably knew all about their falling-out over Rachel and Ella. Everyone did. Still, she wasn't leaving room for talking about it.  
  
Romano nodded, "Ah. Well, nothing to worry about, I'm sure." With that, he took off down the hall, no doubt preparing to scrub in for another surgery.  
  
Elizabeth watched him a moment before hanging the phone up and heading toward the elevator. If she couldn't reach him by phone, she'd see him in person. Her spirits sank even lower when she saw the lights of the buttons blinking crazily. So the elevators were out of order too.  
  
"My God," she muttered, not really sure what to do next, "this is a hospital. We can't do without elevators forever."  
  
Sighing, she turned away and walked toward the surgeon's lounge. It was probably being fixed at the moment, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong down there.  
  
  
  
Jing-Mei was going crazy. She was sure of it. She was almost positive this wasn't happening. The men with the guns, they couldn't be real. And Carter, whose head was on her lap, he couldn't really be injured.  
  
Almost as soon as the thoughts passed through her head, Jing-Mei knew that it wasn't true. This was real. As if he was confirming it, Carter shifted and groaned softly. Mark had ripped his lab coat and had put it around the wound, but it was almost soaked completely through, "I'm cold." John muttered to no one.  
  
She heard a sniffling beside her, and Jing-Mei looked up into the welling eyes of Abby Lockhart. They both knew that he was going to bleed to death if they didn't help him soon. Just as everyone else knew.   
  
The room was deathly quiet, save for the mumblings of the guy who had started this, the psycho with the gun, and his assistants. Jing-Mei could feel everyone's eyes on her. No, not her. Carter.   
  
"Sshhh," she whispered to him as she stroked his damp hair, "you'll be fine."   
  
He was so pale. So deathly pale…  
  
"Don't die," she pleaded quietly, so quiet that only she and Abby could hear, "don't die, John…,"  
  
"How is he?" someone asked behind her, and Jing-Mei glanced at Micheal Gallant as he kneeled beside her.  
  
She shook her head, afraid to say anything for fear that John would hear her. He nodded, then bit his lip thoughtfully.  
  
"We have to help him," Abby whispered desperately.  
  
Gallant nodded, "I know."  
  
Jing-Mei could almost see the wheels turning in his head. She knew what he was like, and she knew he couldn't go very long without trying something, anything.  
  
And that may get him killed.  
  
  
  
Gallant couldn't keep his eyes off of Carter, lying on the floor, bleeding to death. They were in the middle of a hospital, with doctors everywhere, and they couldn't do anything.  
  
It was the worst feeling of helplessness he'd ever known.  
  
He rose and faced the leader, the one with the sawed-off shotgun. He made himself focus on the man, and not the bloody form of the victim who had been shot just a few feet behind him. The guy didn't even notice him, and Gallant made his way around the front of the desk, until he was standing in front of the leader. He could hear Dr. Weaver's whispered protests; he could feel Dr. Greene's eyes boring into his back.  
  
The leader sensed him and whirled towards him. The gun was pointed directly at Gallant's head, and he forced himself to look away from the huge barrels and at the leader's face.  
  
"What the fuck are you doing?" he asked disbelievingly, "get back there."  
  
Gallant raised his arms in a gesture of placidness, "Look, man. I'm not gonna try to be the hero or anything here. I'm not that stupid."  
  
The leader raised his eyebrows at him, but didn't say anything.  
  
"I just…Carter really needs some help, man. He's dying."  
  
The guy chuckled, "Do you really think I give a damn?"  
  
"No, but we do," Gallant answered quietly, "just, just give us a chance to give him some blood and patch that wound up, okay? That's all I'm asking."  
  
Gallant saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and his heart did a skip when he saw the man, the patient Kerry had been taking care of, in the doorway of exam 1. The gunmen hadn't even checked the rooms for patients. Now that he thought about it, there was another patient, wisely staying hidden, in the other exam room.   
  
He made quick eye contact with the man, hoping that he caught the hint that he should stay hidden. The man's eyes widened and he slunk back out of sight. Hopefully, he would stay that way. Gallant knew that any wrong move would result in another death.  
  
Gallant looked at the leader again, who was rubbing his eyes nervously, "Please, man. He's our friend."   
  
"He is?"   
  
Gallant didn't know what to think of the man's tone of voice. It was sarcastic, cruel, but he could detect a hint of deep sadness.  
  
"What do you want?" Gallant asked quietly, gently, "why are you doing this?"  
  
The man's body began to tremble violently, and his face turned blood-red, he was so enraged. Suddenly panicking, Gallant knew he had overstepped his boundaries.  
  
"You wanna know what I want?" the man asked, staring wildly at him, at the people behind the desk, "you want to know why the fuck I came in here?" he was screaming now, and Gallant saw the tears streaming down his face.  
  
"Just-just calm down," Gallant tried to keep his voice level, but he wasn't succeeding. This was getting very dangerous, very fast.  
  
The leader was waving his gun around wildly, "No! No, don't tell me to calm down, man! I will blow you away so fast-,"  
  
"Alright, I'm sorry." Gallant quickly said, but the guy was going off his rocker.  
  
"You'll know why I'm here. You'll know, and then you'll find out what real suffering is!"   
  
Gallant had no idea what he was talking about, but he didn't want to ask.  
  
"Get behind the fucking desk!" he screamed, and Gallant did as he was told, "the good doctor's going to have to die there!"  
  
Gallant stepped back behind the desk, his arms still raised. He hadn't helped. He had only succeeded in making things worse.  
  
  
  
Joshua was about to start shooting the bastard in front of him. Who the Hell did he think he was, trying to talk to him like they knew each other? Like they were…friends?  
  
He didn't have friends. The last friend he'd had died. Here.  
  
He was going to make sure the ones responsible got what was coming to them.   
  
The black guy stepped back behind the desk slowly. Joshua could catch a hint of failure in the man's eyes, and he almost laughed out loud. So he had wanted to be the hero, but Joshua knew better than that. He knew when to let them know who was boss.  
  
He knew when he would start killing.  
  
The time would come when all eyes were turned on this little ER, when the world would see the killers that worked under the facades of lifesavers punished, just as they should be.  
  
Everyone would see.  
  
  
  
Elizabeth was getting edgier by the minute. The feeling that something was vaguely wrong had quickly been upgraded to near-panic. Call it a sixth sense, but she knew there was something that wasn't right down there.  
  
It was when she heard the sirens, not ambulance, but police sirens, that her fears were brought to reality.  
  
She wasn't the only one that was worried. People were standing in the hallways, not moving, just wondering.   
  
"Elizabeth!" she heard her name being called and turned around to see Peter Benton sprinting towards her, "do you have any idea what's going on?"  
  
She shook her head, "No. I haven't any idea."  
  
She wanted to know what the Hell was happening, and she wanted to know if it involved Mark.  
  
"The elevators are still broken, and the phone line to the ER is still cut off." She told him, rubbing her face tiredly.  
  
Peter frowned, "That's strange."  
  
Romano strode down the hall toward them, his mouth set in a grim line, "It seems like we have a situation." He told them, and Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat.  
  
"What's wrong?" she asked him.  
  
"It looks as if someone has stupidly taken over the whole ER wing downstairs," he answered, and Elizabeth gasped, "the police want us to finish surgeries and close down the rest of the hospital. The traumas have already been redirected to Mercy."  
  
"Wait, what about the patients that are already here?" Peter asked, his eyes the epitome of dissatisfaction.   
  
"We have to start evacuating," Romano answered, "now."   
  
Elizabeth couldn't believe it. Someone was downstairs, probably with a gun, holding everyone there hostage. Someone may have already been hurt…No, she couldn't think like that.  
  
Beside her, she could feel Peter's concerned gaze, and she began to cry softly. What if he was dead? What if she never saw Mark again? Hesitantly, he pulled her in an embrace, and she accepted his gesture of comfort, crying into his chest.  
  
"What if he's dead?" she asked, not really expecting an answer.  
  
She could feel him sigh, "Mark will be fine, Elizabeth. They'll all be okay. We'll figure a way out of this."  
  
She didn't know if she could believe him.  
  
  
  
Nathan couldn't believe this was happening. He had only come in for a flu shot. That was it. He hadn't expected the whole freakin' wing to get taken over by a psycho.   
  
He could've done without the flu shot.   
  
Now, he was sitting in the corner of the exam room, not really sure what to do. The black guy had let him know that he didn't want him trying anything, and he figured he'd better obey him. He was the doctor, after all.   
  
He could hear the leader yelling and swearing up a storm outside in the waiting room, and Nathan flinched, hoping he wouldn't be found. He knew it would only piss the guy off to no end.   
  
The woman beside him, Amy Rite, was the only other patient in the ER right now. She had managed to make it in there without being seen when everything had first happened. She had come because of a migraine. He could only imagine how much worse it had gotten.  
  
"So what-what do we do?" she asked, her voice small and tremulous.  
  
Nathan really had no idea, "I guess stay here until the police come," he gave her an encouraging smile, even though he felt like crawling in a hole and dying, "besides, I don't think they're after us."  
  
"The doctors?" she asked, and he nodded.  
  
"Yep."  
  
At least, that's what he hoped. Not that he wished a death upon anyone. He certainly hadn't gotten anything other than horror after seeing that tall doctor, Dr. Carter, take it in the arm. He just wanted to see his kids again before he died. Maybe spend a little time with them.  
  
"You got any kids?" he asked Amy, now that he was on the subject.  
  
She shook her head, "No."   
  
"Oh," he listened to the guy's yells. They had started to die down, "I do. Two. Jaime and Jonathon. Twins," he clarified, and she smiled, "yeah. I haven't seen them in awhile. A couple years, actually."  
  
"Really?" she asked, and he nodded.  
  
"Yeah." He suddenly felt like he had to see those two, more than anything, "I think I'll give them a call, spend some time with them. If…," he didn't finish.  
  
She gave him a pat on the hand, "If we get out of this, I think I'm going to rethink some of my disconnections to friends and family," she looked down, "I haven't talked to my Mom in six years."  
  
Nathan nodded, but didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. So they had made promises to do things they should've done years ago.   
  
He just hoped they'd be able to keep those promises.  
  
  
  
Carter was so cold. He just couldn't seem to get warm, as much as he tried. His arm felt so weak…it still hurt like Hell, but it had begun to go numb awhile ago. Just…he wished he could get warm. That was all he wanted.  
  
He could hear everything going on around him, he could feel Deb's hands on his face, but he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. They were so heavy…he supposed he just needed to sleep a little, and he would be all better. Maybe he would be okay, like Superman. He'd be in perfect shape.  
  
Just…sleep.  
  
"No," the voice was distorted, but he could hear it, "John, stay awake, okay? Stay with me."  
  
He didn't want to, "No. Gotta sleep," he muttered.  
  
He was jarred from his lull when someone started shaking his head, back and forth. Weakly, he managed to wrench his eyes open, and he saw Deb's face above him, "Deb?" he asked, barely able to push it out, "you look all pink."  
  
She did, too. Everything looked pink. Even the lights. The tears on her face looked pink…Abby looked pink, too.  
  
"Come on John, stay with me." She said forcefully, and Carter tried to obey. She sounded scared. He didn't want to scare her…he didn't want to scare anybody.  
  
  
  
Kerry couldn't stop watching Carter. Every minute, he seemed to get a little paler, and a little quieter.   
  
He was dying.   
  
She was scared out of her mind for him, and she wished, more than anything, that it had been her. Not him. He had been the one to put the patient before himself, only to be shot. He didn't deserve this. He had too much ahead of him. He was too kind, too talented…  
  
But who was she kidding? That wouldn't change anything.   
  
Kerry hastily wiped the tears away before anyone saw them. She didn't want to show how scared she was. She needed to be the strong one here. She just had to hold out…Carter had to just hold out a little longer…  
  
The sounds of police sirens drew her attention, and Kerry felt the littlest bit of hope. Maybe they would be okay…  
  
"Stay still," the leader ordered, raising his gun for emphasis, "they'll get the line fixed, and we'll be in business."  
  
The line fixed?  
  
Almost immediately, the telephone started to ring, and everyone jumped, startled. No one moved, afraid of doing anything.  
  
"Get it, desk girl," the guy said, gesturing to Randi, "pick it up."  
  
She did so, not taking her eyes off the leader, "Hello?" she looked like she was about to break down in tears, "they-they want you."  
  
"Tell them not yet."  
  
She nodded, "Not yet, he said."  
  
Kerry studied the guy closely. He was pale and shaking, and she would bet that he was insane. He had to be.  
  
"They want to know how many are in here." She said, swallowing nervously.  
  
The guy frowned, "Tell him that it don't matter."   
  
She did so, glancing at the gunman every few seconds, "They want to know-,"  
  
"Tell them I don't give a fuck about what they want to know!" he yelled, enraged, "tell them I'll talk when I feel like talking!"  
  
Randi's eyes welled with tears, and Kerry's heart went out to the young woman. She shouldn't have to go through this. None of them should.  
  
She told them what he had said, and hung up the phone slowly, "Good, Randi," the guy said soothingly.  
  
  
  
Abby didn't want to look at the gunman. She didn't want to see the insane face of the man who had shot Carter. She didn't want to see the face of the man who had shot a helpless patient without even a hint of remorse. She didn't want to see his smile. That crooked, unnervingly-cheery grin that made her want to cry.   
  
Instead, she kept her eyes trained on Carter's face. His eyes were half-open, and he barely reacted to anything Jing-Mei said to try to keep him awake. It was obvious the bullet had hit an artery. His blood was everywhere. She was sitting in it.  
  
"John," she said, and touched his cheek, almost sobbing as she did so. He was so cool, "John. Do you remember that time you went with me to find my Mom in Oklahoma?"  
  
She saw him smile a little, "Yeah," he mumbled, and his eyes opened a little more to reveal the brown pools she had come to love so much, "that was…great." The last word was barely audible.  
  
"And do you remember when you helped me deliver my baby, John?" Jing-Mei chimed in, "you were so supportive. I don't know if I thanked you for that."  
  
John shifted a little on her lap, "You…you did." His voice was a little louder now, and Abby felt her hopes rising.   
  
"What the fuck is this?" said a disbelieving voice above Abby, and she looked up into the eyes of a madman, "memory lane?"  
  
Jing-Mei tried to bend a little over John to protect him, "Please. We were just-,"  
  
The ringing telephone caused her to pause, and the leader gestured for Randi to give him the phone, "I'll talk." He grabbed the phone.  
  
"Yeah."   
  
John was mumbling something, the only sound in the room besides the gunman's voice.  
  
"No, I don't want any fucking money," he answered, then slammed his fist down, "no, you know what I want? I want revenge! I want to see each of them die, just like they watched my brother die, and didn't do anything! I want to see them suffer!" his voice was high and had reached fever-pitch, and Abby closed her eyes against the horrible sound.   
  
She knew that voice would be in her nightmares for a long time.   
  
Abby had no idea what he was talking about, who he was referring to. So many people died in this building every day…and she was scared that they would be the ones to die in here today.  
  
"I don't give a fuck! They deserve to die like my brother did!" Abby was amazed to see tears in the man's eyes, and for a fraction of a second, she wondered what had happened that had driven him to this.  
  
  
  
Mark couldn't do anything. He wanted to, he wanted to help Carter so badly, but he knew he couldn't move, at the risk of being shot.   
  
The man was so close, though, and his assistants were all out of sight, spread out around the different exits of the ER.  
  
Each minute the gunman was becoming angrier and angrier. Mark could see the sweat pouring off of him as he cursed at the police, "It doesn't matter!" he was screaming so savagely now that Mark felt as if he was looking at a monster. Which…he was.  
  
The gun was limp in his hands, and Mark knew that his chance was now. Gallant was looking at him carefully, and he nodded. As if on count, they both tensed, listening to his conversation with the police. He was distracted.  
  
  
  
Jing-Mei could see what was happening. The killer had left his guard down. He was distracted, and Mark had noticed. As he yelled unmercifully, they were inching closer.  
  
Her heart pumped faster and faster as they drew closer, until she felt like it was going to explode in her chest.   
  
Then, Gallant and Mark lunged, and the gunman grunted, surprised. They wrestled with him over control of the gun, slamming into the counter. Mark had it in his hands and was trying to wrench it from his grasp, but he was struggling back. The guy was strong, spurred on by adrenaline and revenge.  
  
Jing-Mei screamed as he kicked Mark in the gut, and the doctor doubled over painfully. Gallant was there almost immediately, wrestling over control of the weapon. The phone was hanging, forgotten, by its cord.   
  
She heard Haleh scream as the leader gained control of the gun and took aim at Gallant's head with a cruel smile. Time seemed to slow down as he pulled the trigger, but at the last second, a silver object was there, knocking the gun up, and there was a thunderous blast.   
  
Jing-Mei screamed this time as something shattered above them and sparks flew. Instinctively, she covered Carter, just as Abby did, against any further injury.  
  
Then, darkness.  
  
  
  
  
Elizabeth almost collapsed when she heard the gunshot from inside the ER. Around her, policemen were drawing their guns readily.   
  
Something had happened…and she had no idea what.   
  
"Please come home safe, Mark," she whispered.  
  
  
  
Peter Benton could feel Elizabeth stiffen beside him as the gunshot echoed hauntingly. Either the gunman had shot someone, or someone had gained control of the weapon. He hoped, more than anything, that it was the latter.   
  
He was more scared than he wanted to let on. He had to stay strong right now, in case there were injuries he had to deal with.   
  
He hoped to God there weren't.  
  
  
  
Abby shielded her eyes from the sparks made from the shattered light fixture. The whole ER was plunged into darkness from the damaged connections. There was the sound of struggling in the darkness, and Abby held back a scream as she heard the sound of a fist connecting with flesh.  
  
Then, the back-up lights kicked in, and a soft, unearthly orange was suddenly shedding light around the ER. Gallant was standing over the unconscious killer, breathing hard, and Mark was leaning on the counter, the shotgun in his trembling hands.   
  
Abby grabbed the keys on the desk and sprinted toward the front doors, hoping the other gunmen wouldn't reach them before she got there. Quickly, she unlocked the doors, and as soon as she did, the ER was flooded with policemen bearing guns. Before she knew what was happening, she was moved outside into the freezing cold, the others close behind her.  
  
It was over.  
  
  
  
  
Kerry watched as the remaining gunmen were brought out, handcuffed, from the different exits. The danger was over.  
  
She looked down at Carter, who had stopped speaking a few minutes ago. They weren't out of the woods yet. Jing-Mei was crying now, Kerry didn't know from relief or fear for her fallen colleague.   
  
"We need a gurney!" she yelled, ignoring the chaos of policemen all around her.   
  
Mark was there in an instant, and they quickly rolled Carter onto the stretcher, "Come on, Carter. Stay with us." Mark muttered, and the younger doctor's eyes opened slowly.  
  
"Good," Kerry said as she limped beside the gurney with her now-dented crutch. It looked like she'd have a souvenir from this night forever now, "he's conscious."  
  
But she knew he was far from okay.  
  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED…. 


	3. Nothing Short of Miracles

Title: Nothing Short of Miracles  
  
Rating: This chapter is just rated PG for serious angst.  
  
Author's Note: Just a couple more chapters to go and I'm done! Thank you so much for the reviews. They mean a lot!  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own them except ones you don't recognize, blah blah blah.   
  
  
  
  
  
Cook County General Hospital: 11:17 PM  
Abby gripped Carter's hand desperately, hoping that the gesture would keep him alive and with her. She didn't know what she would do if she lost him…But she couldn't think like that. It would only make things worse. There was action all around her, people rushing to save a beloved colleague's life. She couldn't hear anything, though. All she thought, all she saw, was him, barely hanging on.   
  
"He lost a lot of blood," Jing-Mei was saying.  
  
That didn't matter. He would live. Abby knew it.  
  
"Somebody help me get that artery closed!" Benton was yelling.  
  
Someone would. They'd get it closed off and he'd be fine.  
  
"He needs five units of O-Neg, STAT!" Kerry demanded.  
  
He'd get it. Abby just knew it. He'd get it, and he'd be fine.  
  
His hand was cool and limp in her own, but she didn't let it go. She couldn't let it go. She wanted to keep him anchored here. She squeezed his fingers gently, not even paying attention to the action around her and willed Carter to hang on. Just hang on…  
  
"Don't leave me, Carter," she whispered in his ear, "I need you too much."   
  
She didn't even know if he could hear her, but she didn't care.   
  
  
  
Elizabeth couldn't stop hugging Mark. He just felt so…right in her arms. And sadly enough, it had taken a tragedy like this to realize that she loved him too much to just forget about the times, the memories they shared.   
  
"Oh God, Mark. I thought I had lost you," she whispered into his chest, and she felt him take a breath.  
  
He sighed, "All I could see was your face," he answered quietly.  
  
Elizabeth began to cry again. These weren't tears of fear, they were tears of relief. Complete and absolute relief, "How's-how's Carter?" she asked, pulling away from the embrace.  
  
"I don't know," Mark shook his head, and Elizabeth's hope sank, "he lost a lot of blood, but that kid can really hang on when he wants to."  
  
Elizabeth looked through the window into the trauma room. Carter lay on the operating table, pale and deathly. All around him swarmed Dr.'s Benton, Weaver, and Chen, fighting to save him. Beside him was Abby, clutching his hand. Elizabeth thought she saw a tear slide down the distraught nurse's cheek, and she fought the urge to cry herself, she was so touched.  
  
"I just wish there was something we could do." she whispered.  
  
Mark sighed as he watched the same scene, "There's already too many people in there. We'd just be in the way." She knew he was being logical, but Elizabeth wanted to be in there, more than anything.  
  
  
  
  
  
Peter Benton hated his life sometimes. There were just certain days when he was told, harshly and cruelly, that he could be affected by tragedy just as everyone else could. That the same people who fought to save lives could become victims themselves.   
  
Today was one of those days, and to see the fact that none of them were invincible, one of their own had to suffer. Carter. He had already been through so much, now he was a victim again.   
  
"How did this happen?" he muttered disbelievingly.  
  
"He tried to save the patient that got shot," Dr. Chen said, and he jumped, not expecting an answer, "he tried to take her to the trauma room, and he got shot for his efforts."  
  
Peter studied Carter's pale face. He had been intubated a few minutes ago, and now, they were inside, trying to tie off the source of the blood. Abby was clinging to his side, but he didn't say anything. He knew she wouldn't leave.  
  
And Peter hoped, by some miracle, that Carter could feel her beside him. Maybe that would help him hang on more.  
  
Because sometimes miracles were all that kept people alive.  
  
  
  
Abby was the first one to notice that something was wrong. She was only holding his hand, but for some reason, she could feel, deep down inside and with every part of her body and soul, a change.  
  
Completely stunned, all she could do was cry against his hand. Something wasn't right.  
  
"Abby?" Jing-Mei asked, giving her a puzzled expression.  
  
She didn't answer. She didn't have to, because at that moment, John flat lined, and she saw Jing-Mei's face go from understanding to horror.   
  
"He's in V-fib!"  
  
Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh God…  
  
He had to be okay. He had to.  
  
"Charge the paddles to 100!"   
  
Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh God…  
  
"Abby, move your hand!"  
  
She did so, and she felt like she was being pulled away from a lifeline, but she knew that she was the lifeline.   
  
John's body jerked. For a fraction of a second, the room held it's breath.   
  
Abby grabbed his hand again as the keening wail continued unmercifully.  
  
Flat line.  
  
Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh God…   
  
  
  
  
Nathan watched the trauma from outside, completely destroyed by what he saw.  
  
"Sir, if you could just tell us what happened exactly…" a policeman was saying.  
  
He didn't answer. He could only stare at the desperate doctors as the tried to bring their colleague back to life. He could only hope for a miracle.  
  
"Sir,"  
  
'That doctor in there is dying right now," he whispered, not taking his eyes off of the woman who cried openly as the fight continued, "I think that's what matters right now."  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED…  
  
Sorry it's so short, but it kind of has to go this way. Don't worry, the next chapter is getting uploaded right after this one. It's finished and everything! 


	4. Unexplained Happenings

Title: Unexplainable Happenings  
  
Rating: G. Nothing bad in this one.  
  
Author's Note: yep, last chapter! I'm really sorry if you were looking for romance, but I thought it wouldn't go as well with the plot. So, I stuck to really really close friendships. Oh, and thank you so much for the reviews! They mean a lot!  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own the ones you recognize.  
  
  
  
  
Cook County General Hospital ER: 11:27 PM  
Some people say that when a person is about to die, he or she can actually see themselves from above, as if being pulled away. They actually witness their death. But then again, it's not a death; it's a transition from one place to the next. If you believe in that sort of thing.   
  
Abby wasn't sure she did, but as she felt John's life slip away from her, she stared at the ceiling of the trauma room, wondering if he was there, watching everything take place.   
  
Watching them lose him, no matter how hard they worked to keep him alive.  
  
The continuous sound of John's unbeating heart was torture to Abby's ears. It was torture to her whole body. She watched as Jing-Mei began to cry, even as she continued to shock his heart.  
  
And Peter Benton, who's normally unemotional, gruff face was a picture of anguish.   
  
Why? Why did this have to happen? Why him? Why one of the most kind, generous, and understanding people she had ever known?  
  
Amongst the chaos of the trauma and the agony of the ones who witnessed their colleague's dying, Abby could only wait, and watch. To her, it was as if time had stopped, to allow her one moment of silence.   
  
And in that silence, Abby Lockhart felt as if she was dying herself.  
  
  
  
Jing-Mei couldn't hold back the tears any longer. She had been taught to never let her emotions get in the way of working, but how could she not cry when the patient was their own Carter? No one could take over, anyway, because everyone in the trauma room was just as distraught as she was.  
  
"How long?" Peter asked, almost too quiet for her to hear.  
  
She dropped the paddles onto the floor. They connected with a metallic clang that broke the deathly quiet of the room, "Fifteen minutes." She whispered.  
  
She saw Peter sigh, then glance at the clock in the room. Jing-Mei felt like the whole world was about to collapse in around them, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.  
  
"Time of death…," Abby began sobbing, her whole body wracked with sadness.  
  
Jing-Mei could only think of what things would be like without her friend.  
  
"11:28." Peter said, and then sunk to the floor of the room slowly, disbelievingly.  
  
No one moved. No one dared speak. Abby was clutching at John's hand desperately, as if willing him to return to them.  
  
Jing-Mei knew he wouldn't. He was gone for good. Beside her, Kerry Weaver began to cry quietly.  
  
And then, with the sounds of sadness and broken hearts, another sound was heard. Coming from the monitor. The sound of a beating heart.   
  
Completely in awe, Jing-Mei looked up at the monitor, and gasped when she saw the rhythm of a healthy, normal heart, "Oh my God," she whispered.  
  
She saw Peter rise from the floor, his face expressing what she felt.   
  
"John?" Abby asked, her voice hopeful.  
  
"How can that happen?" Kerry asked, looking as if she was about to faint, "that's-that's impossible."  
  
Jing-Mei could only smile, "Not impossible, just a miracle."  
  
  
  
"Dr. Greene?"   
  
Mark turned at the sound of his name to see the short, skinny policeman standing before him, "Yes?"  
  
"I'm detective Farrell."  
  
He nodded, somewhat chagrined. He'd had enough of these people. They couldn't seem to just leave him alone right now, even as Carter was still being operated on, "Uh huh."  
  
"I just wanted to let you know that we found out who the killer was."  
  
Mark suddenly paused. He wanted to know this. They all did, "Alright. Let's go to the lounge." He looked at Elizabeth, who nodded and turned to watch the trauma again.  
  
They entered the lounge a few minutes later, and Mark sat down, along with the detective.   
  
Detective Farrell leaned back in his chair across from Mark and opened a file, "We ran a check on his fingerprints. Turns out he was telling the truth about his brother dying here. It didn't happen too long ago, about seven or eight months."  
  
"Who was his brother?"  
  
The detective frowned, "A man named Derek Fossen."  
  
Mark's blood suddenly ran cold. Derek Fossen. The father who had gone on a shooting spree. The man he had allowed to die in the elevator, "I remember him," his voice was dull and cold, and he was sure the detective heard it.  
  
"I'm sure you do," he leaned forward, "the shooting spree was a result of temporary insanity, as I'm sure you know, since he'd had problems with his wife. But this kid, who was a good seven years younger than Derek, was actually diagnosed with a severe chemical imbalance in the brain ten years ago."  
  
Mark listened intently, but he was still shattering on the inside. He had come for revenge. Carter shouldn't have been the one shot. He should have been.  
  
"The kid's name is Timothy Fossen. No kids, no wife. It seems like his only friend had been his brother, until he had died."  
  
Mark couldn't believe it. He had been the cause of all this.  
  
He might as well been labeled the killer.  
  
  
  
Kerry watched as they took Carter to the OR to get the wound in his arm closed up. She felt like she had just been put through Hell. All in a few minutes, she had watched one of the best men she'd ever known die, and then come back. Come back. That wasn't seen around the ER. Patients would either live or die. There was no in between.  
  
Until now. It seemed like Carter had established that.  
  
She felt someone come up beside her, and Kerry turned to regard Abby. She was weary, teary-eyed, and fatigued-looking, but she was relieved. Kerry could tell. They all were.  
  
"That's never happened before," Kerry told her, smiling tiredly.   
  
Abby simply stood there and watched as the stretcher carrying Carter entered the elevator, "A first time for everything," she whispered back.  
  
Kerry studied the dent in her crutch, not sure what to say. It was true. They had all just experienced a miracle. One that could not be explained by medical terms and natural occurrences.   
  
Kerry looked up at Abby again, and without thinking, she stepped forward and enveloped the nurse in a hug. The other woman clung back, and Kerry just stood there. They both needed the comfort.   
  
  
  
Cook County General Hospital ER: 11:56 PM  
Peter Benton wanted to know what had happened in trauma. Everyone was claiming it was a miracle, a phenomenon that couldn't be explained.  
  
And Peter, being the one to logically think things through, wanted to know how it had happened. It had to be explainable. Miracles were things he had come to think false after his first two years working in surgery. The things he saw everyday tended to suck the faith right out of you. It did him.  
  
Carter had been taken to recovery just a few minutes ago, and there had been no signs of any brain damage or tissue damage due to the lack of oxygen during the twenty-five minutes Carter's heart had not pumped. That in itself was something that couldn't happen.  
  
But it had, and Peter couldn't deny it.  
  
Maybe he should have kept his faith in the unexplainable after all.  
  
  
  
"Yeah, he came for revenge, more than likely a result of the chemical imbalance in his brain," the detective continued, "I guess he couldn't accept the fact that his brother died from his injuries, even though you did everything you could to save him as the doctor that worked on him that day."   
  
Mark felt like the world had just stopped. The detective was clueless, just like everyone else, about just what had happened that day. But he wasn't, and he would have to live with what it had caused for the rest of his life.  
  
"Right Dr. Greene?"  
  
He could only stare at the detective, "What?"  
  
"I said that you did everything you could to save Derek, and Timothy just didn't accept that."  
  
"Oh," he simply said.  
  
But he couldn't answer the question, because he was just as guilty for killing that patient and injuring Carter as Timothy Fossen was.  
  
  
  
Cook County General Hospital ER: 12:48 AM  
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Carter asked Abby, frowning in confusion.  
  
She pulled herself from her thoughts abruptly and gave him a smile, "Like what?"  
  
"Like I'm the Golden Child or something." He answered, and she couldn't help but laugh. She had never been so glad to hear one of his 'zingers' in her whole life.  
  
"I guess because you are."  
  
He nodded, somewhat embarrassingly, and she couldn't help but smile again, "I know. Believe me, I've already been told hundreds of times about it, and I've only been awake for thirty minutes."  
  
"Well, you have been deemed a miracle."  
  
Carter shook his head, completely serious, and Abby felt her smile fade away, "I'm not. I was just holding on to something."  
  
"What?" she asked, wondering what he was getting at.  
  
He gave her a grateful smile, "Abby…," he leaned forward a little, wincing as he did so, and she almost told him to lie back, "I don't remember hardly anything after talking to you and Jing-Mei while I was on the floor," he hesitated.  
  
"Go one," Abby encouraged.  
  
"But I can remember feeling something," he looked down, as if ashamed to confess his feelings to her, "I don't know why, but I can remember feeling someone's hand on mine, even though that's not possible."  
  
Abby couldn't do anything but sit there and stare at him. He had felt it? "No, that's not impossible." She whispered.  
  
"I guess not," he answered back, "and I know…for certain, that it was you."  
  
She couldn't help but ask him why, even though she thought she already knew.  
  
"I don't know. I just…know," he said softly, before lying back on the bed tiredly, "and I just wanted to thank you." His brown eyes were tired, and they drooped a little. He was about to drift to sleep again.  
  
She couldn't stop the tears from coming now, and she laid a hand on his pale face, "I thought you were gone for good," Abby paused and took a deep breath, "and it felt like I was falling apart on the inside."  
  
"But I'm here." He said softly.  
  
Abby reached up and brushed away the tears, "I know."  
  
For a moment, they were both silent. Neither knew what to say.  
  
But then again, they knew that they didn't have to say anything to completely understand each other.  
  
THE END!!!!   
I hope you like the ending, and thanks for reading and reviewing. 


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